


Massepain

by MarigoldVance



Series: des p'tits sucrés [4]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: (animal spirits), (shape shifters), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fox!Fíli, M/M, Otter!Kíli, marzepan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:13:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26184748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarigoldVance/pseuds/MarigoldVance
Summary: At last, Fíli catches a whiff; a thin tendril of something sweet and nutty on the wind, barely there and tempting him like a curling finger.
Relationships: Fíli/Kíli (Tolkien)
Series: des p'tits sucrés [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1900903
Comments: 10
Kudos: 15





	Massepain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Morcanta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morcanta/gifts).



> _ this woman ... i don't have enough words to describe how incredible (and, seriously, so damn cool) she is; [Morcanta](https://morcanta.tumblr.com/) makes me feel important, interesting, valued, and i will never ever be able to adequately express how much i appreciate that. so, darling, i hope this story brings you at least a modicum of the joy you bring me _ ❤️
> 
> *
> 
> originally posted to the [Secret Admirers Collection](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SecretAdmirers2020)

The world is becoming far more fascinating than it has been in recent centuries. Suddenly, there is color in everything; elaborate gold and marble all the way up and across every surface. Walls vanish as gardens grow and creep upward toward the heavens where angels sing and dance in the stars. Even archways become masterpieces.

Music and poetry and science … every facet of human existence is exemplified in some way; explored, enhanced, celebrated.

It has been far too long since Fíli’s felt this vibration in him. It draws him from the forest and into the city to explore. Kíli follows as he always does, thankfully with his wits about him because Fíli finds himself distracted. He’s tugged by the tail away from the crowds of prettily costumed men and women and into the shadows where he and Kíli become invisible.

Upon his third visit in his fox-skin, Fíli overhears discussions of the possibility of flying machines, advancements in medicine, the talent and genius of composers. He sits under the steps of the university for hours, listening and learning, salivating for _more_. Kíli grumbles the whole way back about having nothing for supper, that it’s Fíli’s day to scavenge something to eat and he instead abandoned Kíli without a word.

Also, that he’s going to fade away into dust, he’s so hungry, the overdramatic goblin.

Fíli rolls his eyes and lifts his nose to the air, filtering through the myriad of smells to find one that would appease his brother’s moaning stomach. He is assaulted by the corpulent stink of vinegar layered beneath the pungent botanical scent of orris powder, both tapering into the thick, sticky aroma of molasses-milk. A stifling moment passes as his sensitive nose sifts through tangy rhubarb and the woody musk of various herbs.

At last, he catches a whiff; a thin tendril of something sweet and nutty on the wind, barely there and tempting him like a curling finger. Fíli grins, a proud thing, and traipses in the direction it leads him toward the outskirts of the city. The crowds become less dense and the lanes widen a fraction and, finally, Fíli stops at an open doorway facing the back of another building.

Without having to ask, he knows Kíli has caught the same scent, his excited little eyes bulging bright and eager. Oh yes, Fíli has done well.

Together, they pick their way over the lip of the door and enter what appears to be a kitchen. There’s flour and sugar dusted across most of the surfaces, great sacks of both along the wall, and wooden instruments covered in wet dough dripping their mess onto the stone floor. The oven warms the room nicely from where it stands to the right and the whole place smells of sweetmeat.

Oh yes yes _yes_ , Fíli has done _perfectly_.

Kíli trots this way and that, tracing the scent they followed around the room and back again until he comes to an abrupt stop under the center table. Fíli moves behind him and nudges Kíli with his nose, scooping Kíli up under his muscular tail and forcing him to balance on Fíli’s snout. Kíli barely needs a second to understand Fíli’s intention and props himself gingerly atop Fíli’s head, right between his pointy ears.

At his new height, Kíli can see the spread on the tabletop and claps his sharp hands together in delight. Stepping down the length of Fíli’s nose, foot-claws pricking wherever they touch, Kíli creeps onto the very edge table, arms already outstretched and grabbing at the air like the greedy little thing he is.

If Fíli could snort appropriately in this form, he would. Instead, he bucks his head up to send Kíli the rest of the way forward, his chin tipping down and his bum raised high as he clambers to right himself. He turns around to flash an irritated frown at Fíli but otherwise does nothing, simply smooths down his front and continues his quest.

It must be whole _minutes_ that Kíli is out of sight while Fíli waits, steadily growing impatient. From where he stands, he can’t see anything, but he can _hear_ Kíli just fine, munching away to his heart’s content while he leaves valiant Fíli starving on the ground. Fíli, who found him those spoils.

He breathes into his core, prods the ruby heat behind his heart, and welcomes the change throughout his body. Slowly, he unfolds himself to stand taller on two legs, longer and leaner than he recalls them being the last time he shed his fox-skin, though only slightly. Shaking off the residual tingle, he blinks and immediately spots his brother, cheeks stuffed fat and belly rounder than it was when they slinked in.

“You insatiable little piglet!” Fíli accuses, picking Kíli up with both large hands around Kíli’s middle and plopping him on the floor. “You weren’t going to leave any for me.” Kíli scoots right up against Fíli’s calf, petting the swell of muscle gently and whimpering, high and heart-rending, from the back of his throat. “Don’t you start.” Fíli warns, watching Kíli’s whiskers twitch as his nose wiggles in a way that always melts Fíli’s resolution. “Stop it.” Kíli’s round eyes seem to moisten and his animal brow furrows. “I said stop.”

Kíli doesn’t.

Fíli’s resolve shatters completely when Kíli presses the pad of his cold nose to Fíli’s skin on the tail of a particularly sorrowful whine. From one breath to the next, Kíli is off the floor and in Fíli’s arms, being cradled in one broad arm while the fingers at the end of the other tickle Kíli into chirps of laughter.

“You can weave guilt like silk, can't you, Kee.” Fíli says fondly, setting Kíli back on the tabletop. “Now, what do we have here?”

Fíli picks up a piece of what must’ve been a gorgeous confectionary display before Kíli had his way with it. It resembles an apple, deep red and shaped like one, but is much too small and smells too sugary to be a fruit of any kind. At Kíli’s encouragement – pushing Fíli’s elbow up with both teeny hands – Fíli pops it in his mouth. The flavor isn’t as extravagant as he was expecting; nutty and quite sweet yet somehow bland once the sweetness subsides. Still, it’s good and Fíli reaches for another.

Years have elapsed since either brother has tasted people-made treats, preferring to remain creatures, safe in the wilderness and away from the ever-changing world of men. After so long, Fíli can’t help but allow himself to savor each bite – another not-apple and then a not-pear, a not-fig, and two flowers that don’t exist in nature. Kíli, on the other hand, stuffs his cheeks, careless of the sugar sticking to his fur and whiskers.

Suddenly, they hear movement from the front room, the sound of groggy footsteps and a few soft thuds of a padded body bumping furniture. Fíli grabs Kíli and dumps him on the ground before casting a quick look around. Kíli frantically points to a basket in the corner – the perfect size and shape for a fox to carry in its mouth – and urges Fíli along. Fíli takes the basket and sweeps the remainder of the confections into it, sets it beside Kíli and crouches just as the door separating the rooms creaks open.

They’re out the back and down the lane before whoever they disturbed is aware they were ever there. Whatever these treats are, Fíli thinks, watching Kíli lope a bit heavier than he had on the journey to the kitchen, he’s sure they’ll need to find a regular supply.

Perhaps it’s time, after all, to let the fox and the otter sleep and for Fíli and Kíli to explore this new and vastly interesting world. 

**Author's Note:**

> did you know that women during the Renaissance believed bathing weakened the body? and that rhubarb elixirs and molasses water were used to disguise the fact that they rarely bathed? _rhubarb and molasses_. never mind the dozens of odor-stifling things they used (orris powder, bay-leaves for bad breath, etc.). eventually, yes, they did bathe daily ~~in milk~~ in tubs set before their fireplaces but... poor Fee and his sensitive schnoz 😆


End file.
